


The Dragon Princes

by Kalikuks



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Assassination Plot(s), Blood and Injury, Deals with Dragons, Dragon Jesse McCree, Dragon Possessed Hanzo, Dragons, Fantasy Violence, Fic inspired by art, High Fantasy, M/M, Magic Bullshit, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Prince Hanzo Shimada, Rating May Change, Smut, Transformation, Weird Biology
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-10
Updated: 2019-10-31
Packaged: 2020-08-16 03:42:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 20,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20184370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kalikuks/pseuds/Kalikuks
Summary: “Not many humans are willing to journey up the mountain pass, let alone right into the very heart of my territory. Awful bold of you, to enter the lair of a dragon,” The dragon speaks, voice following the rumble of a low chuckle.“It was not my intention. I was pursued.” Hanzo finally finds his voice, and instinctually bows, forehead pressed to the gold beneath him, “Forgive me for the intrusion.”--- --- --- --- ---After being lured by talks of peace and then betrayed, Hanzo finds himself with an unlikely ally in the form of a great Dragon.





	1. The Lord and the Prince

**Author's Note:**

> So this fic has been sitting in my WIP folder for forever. I dunno when I'll get to the rest of it but I kinda just want it Out There, y'know?
> 
> This entire thing is loosely based [On This Art by Iblackfeathers](https://iblackfeathers.tumblr.com/post/177708688404/his-prince-gonna-tag-this-as-mchanzo-but-yall)

Flashes of green speed by a lone rider, his stolen horse flying through the woods, his pursuers not too far behind. He ducks as an arrow flies by his head, finding a mark in the trunk of a tree that is soon far behind him. 

Hanzo spurs his horse on further, but the poor beast is already run ragged. If he stops, he is certain he will die to these dogs. They had lured him, the heir to his father’s kingdom, here for talks of peace, only to attempt to take his life.

They had failed, Hanzo had murdered his would-be assassin.

But now they had branded him a murderer and hunted him like a dog. Running is all the option Hanzo has. They had sunk his ships in the night with the crew too into their drink to notice. Hanzo is without allies and without a way home.

So he runs.

The forest is thinning, the ground becoming rocky and uneven at the foot of a great mountain. Too soon and with an anguished cry Hanzo’s stolen mare crashes to the earth, sending the prince sprawling forward. He rolls and forces himself to his feet, but his body aches from fighting for his life.

Still, he runs.

His would be killers flag behind, unbeknownst to him, their horses uneasy and familiar with this terrain, the cliffs and a sharp jagged mountain that cuts the sky. Hanzo reaches the first of the rocks that dot the mountainside and vaults over it, the sharp stone digging into his fingers and hands.

Stumbling over stone, he runs.

“My lord,” one of the men in the hunting party turns to his leader, trying to soothe his spooked horse, “Do we follow?”

The leader of this hunt just laughs, “The fool runs to his own death. The Lord of the Mountain will do our work for us.” He spurs his horse around, “Set up a perimeter spanning the forest edge, if he comes back this way, kill him. But do not step past the boundary,” He nods to a large stone set upon the lone untraveled path through the mountain, carved into the twisted maw of a dragon, “or your death is your own doing.”

The men in the hunting party cast wary looks to the sky, and do as they are told.

In the distance, Hanzo runs.

He runs until he cannot run no more, and must climb, the way blocked with the remnants of a landslide. The sharp rocks prick his skin, his hands soon rubbed raw from the ascent higher and higher into the mountainside. He flops onto a ledge, high up the mountain, to catch his breath, only turning around to peer over the edge.

He can see the ant sized forms of his pursuers, their colours stark against the forest green. They can’t have lost him, so they are preventing him from going back. Hanzo resigns himself to a possible death amongst the crags. His bow needs repairing, and his hastily stitched wound from the fight with his assassin has reopened from the tumble off the horse. He hates that he had to leave such a noble creature behind, and hopes the mare is okay.

Night is falling though, and Hanzo cannot stay out here, exposed to the elements. A look around reveals a crag in the mountainside a few yards above Hanzo’s current perch, and with aching limbs he makes the climb. Halfway up the rock underfoot gives way, and Hanzo has to leap just to make it to the crag’s opening.

The crag turns out to be a cave, and warily Hanzo heads inside.

It goes deeper than he first thought, a reflection of light shines on the cave wall when he turns a corner. Hanzo moves closer, cautiously and carefully. Beyond the bend is a sight Hanzo had not expected, a sea of gold in the middle of a massive cavern. There are fabrics amongst the piles too, and Hanzo’s scrapes and injuries throb.

He’ll re-bandage his wounds and be on his way. The gold could come in handy, but Hanzo can only carry so much. Hanzo has to lower himself into the room from the crag he’d entered in and his feet slide on gold as he lands. He holds his breath as the coins clink, a ruby the size of his fist rolls a foot away after being disturbed.

One moment passes.

Then two.

Nothing stirs, and Hanzo quietly makes his way to the nearest swath of fabric he can see. There’s no point in remaining silent, if something was here, it would already be upon him. Hanzo pulls a sizeable length of silk from the treasure hoard. It must have come off of one of the trade ships from his country, as he recognizes its make. It won’t be returning home anytime soon, much like Hanzo.

Hanzo pulls the rest of the cloth from the treasure hoard. Bundling it up in his injured hands he looks around the mountain cavern for something to house water. Further up the mountain of coin, a silver bowl perches on a pedestal of marble, and Hanzo pushes himself towards it. Oddly, the bowl has water in it when Hanzo reaches it, crystal clear even for being inside this cavern for who knows how long.

Hanzo can’t help but drop the bundle of silk and cup some of the water in his hands, bringing it up to his lips. He hadn’t realized how parched he was, and the water is sweet and cool on his tongue. Even his wounds stop stinging, and when Hanzo pulls his hands from his face, the shallower scraps on his palms are no longer an angry red and look days old.

Hanzo looks to the bowl and finds it as full and the water unsullied just as he had found it. He plucks the bowl from its perch, drags the silk he’d found and sits himself down on a nest of fine fabrics woven into the gold hoard, the bowl settled between his crossed legs. Hanzo pulls a knife from the folds of his torn clothing and starts tearing the silk into strips to use for cloth and bandages.

The water in the bowl sometimes splashes from Hanzo’s rough and weary movements, but he’s too tired to care. Soon, he pulls off his gi with a hiss, his side still tender and the wound seeping blood. The magic of the silvered water bowl at least takes the tenderness away, and he folds up one of the strips of silk to press it against the wound after soaking it in the water.

Hanzo can only stave off exhaustion for so long though, and his vision swims. He has enough mindfulness to at least move the bowl away before he slumps against the pile of silks. His body aches, the knife wound in his side still throbs, and he’s alone in a big country full of his enemies and no way home. His eyes sting at the realization.

Hanzo chokes down his sobs, but he lets his tears run their course.

He’s finally about to drift into much needed sleep when the gold shifts. Not a few pieces. The entire mountain of it. Hanzo jolts upright at the sound of it, eyes wide as he watches the waves of gold and jewels roll off the form underneath. Shimmering treasures give way to deep red scale, and a massive winged form rises from the depths of the wealth amassed in this cavern. Hanzo has to quickly move away, grabbing the bowl as he goes so both he and his only source of water are not buried.

Soon, the huge scarlet form of a dragon stands before Hanzo, gold eyes considering him. The massive head lowers to Hanzo’s level, and Hanzo cannot form the thought to speak. The dragon seems to have enough words for them both.

“Not many humans are willing to journey up the mountain pass, let alone right into the very heart of my territory. Awful bold of you, to enter the lair of a dragon,” The dragon speaks, voice following the rumble of a low chuckle.

“It was not my intention. I was pursued.” Hanzo finally finds his voice, and instinctually bows, forehead pressed to the gold beneath him, “Forgive me for the intrusion.”

The gold shifts again and the dragon settles before Hanzo, laying upon his sea of treasures, crossing his massive forelegs and resting his head upon them. Hanzo watches the dragon’s nostrils flare after righting himself, flinching when the dragon huffs out a wave of heat.

“Sounds like quite a tale. You certainly aren’t any old human, with the finery you wear, even if it is in tatters. Why would a man of noble bearing like yourself be chased all the way into dragon territory?”

“I was lured by talks of peace. My country and this one have been on the cusp of war for so long, my father saw it fit to send me to negotiate the truce. But it was a ruse to meant to ensnare my family, and an attempt was made on my life,” Hanzo explains, looking eye to eye with the great dragon before him, “I killed the assassin sent to kill me, but he was a man of noble bearing himself in this land, and so they twisted the situation to cast blame upon me. I am a wanted man, I cannot go back, either down the mountain or to my home. They made sure to trap me here.”

Hanzo casts his eyes down, shoulders slumping, “And so, I find myself before you.”

“Before me and not cowering like most humans would,” the dragon hums in thought, tilting his head to the side, “Why is that?”

“In my homeland dragons are held in high regard, capable of both good and evil.” Hanzo motions to the regal dragon among styled storm clouds that spans his left arm, “Though ours are different in shape to you and your kin. You also seem to be leaning towards fire elements, from what tales I’ve heard.”

“And the dragons of your homeland don’t?” the massive dragon scootches closer, eyes fixated on his human guest.

Hanzo shakes his head, “The dragons of my home are heavily aligned with the sea, or storms. Sometimes they say if you are near a river or lake, and you see motes of light dancing across the surface, a dragon is slumbering under the water. I’ve never seen any of the dragon lights, sadly.”

“Unfortunate.” the dragon considers him for a long time, “You need a place to stay, and protection, correct?”

“I do.” Hanzo answers truthfully, “I need to get my bearings again, and to heal.”

“You may stay here.”

That takes Hanzo aback, and he stares up in disbelief at the dragon. The dragon only watches him back, waiting for his answer. The massive tail of the beast twitches, and for a second Hanzo is reminded of his cat Momo back home. If he is to return to her, and his family, he’s going to need all the aid he can get.

“Thank you.” Hanzo bows again, “You are very kind.”

“Ain’t kindness, I’m afraid.” the dragon stares at Hanzo intently, “I’m not doing this without payment.”

“I have no coin to my name.” Hanzo immediately replies, eyebrows furrowing as he looks up from his bowed posture. “I have nothing to offer you.”

“Your company and your knowledge is what I ask for.” the dragon lifts one of his front legs, and one sharp talon tips up Hanzo’s chin, making him raise up to a sitting position again, “I love a good story, and if you have some to share, I will take them as payment. Don’t hurt none that you’re a treat to behold, either.”

Hanzo flushes red, lifts his chin away from the dragon’s talon to gaze to the side. A low rumble echoes through the cavern as the dragon chuckles at his human guest’s expense. The dragon lifts his head and stares down at Hanzo and seems to consider something.

“Would you prefer me if I was more human?” the dragon asks, eyes glinting with amusement, “Something like this?”

Hanzo is about to ask what the dragon could possibly mean by this, but he has to shield his eyes from a bright flare of magic engulfing the entire form of the dragon. It’s a feeling in the air not unlike when Hanzo summons his own spirit guardians, but where Hanzo’s own ability leaves the air charged like a coming storm, this is a heat wave. It’s over as quick as it had come, and when Hanzo lowers his arm he’s face to face with the dragon once more.

Only now he’s shaped like a man. If man looked half dragon, at least.

The dragon takes Hanzo’s hand from where his arm is still frozen in front of him in his shock, razor sharp talons on the ends of his draconic fingers gentle on Hanzo’s skin as the dragon lifts Hanzo’s hand to his mouth. In this form the dragon has a wild beard and hair, and it tickles as he places a kiss on each of Hanzo’s knuckles.

Even in this form the dragon is big, his huge scarlet wings twitching outwards to loosely wrap around the pair. Hanzo is by no means a small man himself, mind you, but he still can’t help but feel small next to the dragon even now. Hanzo’s certain that the dragon cannot be much taller than him at the moment in his humanoid form, though. Even with his horns.

“I guess you do.” the dragon’s smile tilts up to the right on his face, eyes surprisingly as warm as they are amused, “I am being awful rude, my noble friend. I never got your name.”

“Shimada Hanzo.” Hanzo bows again to the dragon, hissing and jolting as his side twinges.

The dragon gently rights Hanzo, to his surprise, and trails a clawed finger so lightly around the wound. Prodding at areas of it gently, murmuring apologies when Hanzo gasps sharply in pain. Eventually the dragon leaves the wound be, reaching for that silvered bowl Hanzo had found earlier.

“You’re lucky to have found this place, Hanzo.” the dragon soaks a clean swathe of fabric that Hanzo had torn earlier, and dabs at the wound gently with it, “These mountains are dangerous, and I ain’t just talking about me.”

The magic from the bowl soothes Hanzo’s inflamed skin once again, and he sighs, “I gathered that. Those pursuing me would not come up the mountain paths.”

“The paths are hell on horse and man alike.” the dragon continues to clean the wound before he gathers long strips, looking to Hanzo for permission. At Hanzo’s nod, the dragon proceeds to help dress the wound as he continues, “You’re a hardy little thing, to have survived this long.”

Hanzo only huffs, indignant, and the dragon chuckles deep and low in his throat. Soon Hanzo’s wound is dressed, and the dragon settles back to look over his handiwork. Content that the bandages would hold, he turns his attention back to Hanzo himself.

“Now, as much as I myself like to sleep on all my gold, I really doubt it’s comfy for you humans.” the dragon stands, and offers a hand to Hanzo, “I think I got a place more comfortable for you, Hanzo.”

Hanzo just wants nothing more than for this hellish day to be over, so he takes the dragon’s hand and lets him help him to his feet. The dragon places a hand gently on the small of Hanzo’s back when he sways unsteadily. When Hanzo’s knees buckle the dragon eases Hanzo down and sits at Hanzo’s side, waiting.

“If…if you would aid me,” Hanzo peers up at the dragon, “I would appreciate it. I have no strength left, it seems.” he laughs bitterly.

The dragon only nods, and moves to lift under Hanzo’s legs, picking him up with ease. Hanzo only resigns himself to being carried, though he would be lying that the natural heat of the dragon’s form isn’t coaxing him to lightly doze as the dragon carries him further into the sea of gold.

Hanzo comes back to consciousness reluctantly when the dragon lays him down on a pile of fabrics, in a much different part of the cavern than the one containing the sea of gold. This room contains an entirely different hoard, for when the dragon moves from Hanzo to light a small fire in a little nook in the corner, the light reveals piles and piles of books. When the dragon turns back from the fire he lit, he moves to Hanzo’s side.

“Sorry to have woken you, felt like you’d be better in here.”

“Where—“ Hanzo begins, only to be gently hushed by his host.

“Another sort of hoard of mine,” the dragon murmurs, adjusting the fabric nest around Hanzo, “For when I feel like some light reading, or simply to indulge in the presence of my collection. S’why I even learned to take this form, holding your tomes is rather difficult with such large talons.”

Hanzo has half a mind to nod in understanding, exhaustion creeping close to come to claim him yet again. The last thing he’s aware the dragon doing is lifting a hand towards the fire, coaxing it down with little effort until the coals are giving off a much gentler heat. Hanzo knows nothing more after that, as sleep finally comes to him.


	2. Fever and Fervor

Hanzo drifts in and out of a fever haze over the next few days, his wounds festering despite the magic of the silvered bowl. The dragon, in turn, drifts in and out of the library, bringing Hanzo food and changing the fabrics of the nest when Hanzo has made them damp with sweat. Hanzo never expected a great creature so considered above humans to be so… doting.

When he awakens from a nightmare, the dragon is there, gently hushing him. Those great scarlet wings shielding Hanzo from the brightness of the fire so his eyes may adjust. He’s got a packet of something in his claws, emptying it into a bowl of fragrant soup.

“Medicine.” The dragon stirs the powder into the soup before he lifts a spoon way too fine to be used for such mundane things up to Hanzo’s mouth, “Called in a favour with a medicine woman who owes me. This should help nullify the poison in your blood. Sorry, I didn’t scent it sooner, humans have gotten better at hiding poison, and my silver bowl can only do so much against it once it’s in your blood.”

Hanzo has no voice to thank him with, so he leans forward weakly to eat. The dragon helps him, lays him back down gently when the soup is gone. Hanzo wants to ask him if he’s going to die, but cannot. Hanzo’s hands do fumble to find something to cling to, finding the dragon’s tail, uncaring if the scales are rough against his much softer palm. The dragon starts to make a noise, a deep comforting rumble, not unlike Hanzo’s cat Momo’s purrs. Hanzo drifts off to the noise, thinking of home, and the anger seizes his chest.

He cannot die here, he _needs_ to return. To warn his father and brother of the treachery of the royals here. There will not be peace while they continue to sit on their throne and scheme.

He’s only half-aware of the dragon gently running a scaled knuckle along his cheek as he finally drifts off.

On the fifth day in the dragon’s lair, Hanzo wakes clear-minded and lucid. There’s the scent of meat cooking in its own fat that makes Hanzo’s mouth water, and he sits up slowly to peer towards the smell. The dragon is tending the fire, a sort of stone cylinder placed within it where licks of fire try to escape holes along the side. The dragon has set a fine cast iron pan on top, where meat is sizzling.

Hanzo’s stomach growls very loudly in response, and even his dragon guardians react to the sight, urging Hanzo to eat to regain their strength. The dragon turns towards him when he shuffles closer. He gives Hanzo a little nod before turning back to the pan, breathing deep before a small torrent of flame leaves his mouth, searing the top the meat. 

Hanzo sits to wait while the dragon serves him his meal. It’s a simple meal, the seared steak of what Hanzo is told is a mountain goat that is common on the mountainside, and some edible root vegetables that stubbornly grow among the crags. Hanzo is too hungry to care for the taste, devouring everything in minutes.

“What hour is it?” Hanzo asks once his attention is no longer on his plate.

“Just before sunset, you were unwell for a while there,” the dragon has been slicing apples as Hanzo ate, tossing the slices into some sort of pan, “I was worried the poison was gonna kill you. Whoever wounded you used something very undetectable, I’m sorry I caught it too late, it was very close.”

“I am alive now, thanks to you,” Hanzo replies, setting his plate aside and settling down closer to the fire and the dragon himself, “I don’t think you gave me your name.”

“Unless you speak the language of Dragons, you can’t pronounce it,” the dragon replies, pulling over an open box full of glass vials full of different spices and ingredients, some of which he selects and sprinkles over the apples, “but if you really want to know it—“

The dragon proceeds to say something in a deep rumble, through gnashing teeth and rough consonants. It startles Hanzo at first, but his dragon guardians’ interest is piqued, and they seem to listen intently, pressing insistently at the thin veil between worlds only Hanzo can free them from. What startles Hanzo more is that his dragons _reply, _the language lost to him but the meaning clear.

_Let us meet him._

Hanzo figures the dragon at least deserves a warning before he brings them forth, but first…

“I did not catch that, at all,” Hanzo lightly teases, “Except maybe, well,” he ponders and thinks over what he just heard, “the only part I caught was something that sounded like _Jesse.”_

“You may call me that, if you desire,” the dragon places the pan of apple slices into the fire after covering it, reaching to take one of Hanzo’s hands in his and kissing his knuckles again, “I quite like how it sounds on your tongue, little prince.”

“I will do so if it pleases you.” Hanzo allows the dragon, allows _Jesse_, to continue his attentions, letting the dragon take the other hand to kiss his other set of knuckles.

** _Let us meet him._ **

Hanzo smiles privately to himself, and Jesse raises an eyebrow at his expression. Hanzo takes his hand back from the dragon and rolls his sleeve up, smoothing a hand down the intricate ink that binds his guardians. The dragons positively thrum under the attention and their interest in meeting the fire dragon.

“They wish to meet you,” Hanzo says simply. 

“They?” Jesse looks caught off guard, nostrils flaring, scenting the air, which has begun to smell like ozone, “Who are “they”?”

“_My_ dragons.” Hanzo smiles at the dragon, “They want to meet you, they’re quite adamant about it too.”

“Your dragons.” Jesse sounds intrigued, leaning closer to Hanzo to peer at his tattoo.

A blue glow rises from the inked scales and Jesse rumbles, taking Hanzo’s hand in one of his own and placing the other under Hanzo’s elbow delicately, lifting Hanzo’s arm to inspect. After a moment he gently flips Hanzo’s arm, runs his nose from inside Hanzo’s elbow to his wrist, nuzzling into the soft flesh as he sniffs deep. Hanzo raises an eyebrow at the display.

“The poison must have sullied your blood enough to mask the scent, I did not realize you have draconic blood.” Jesse’s eyes are alight with interest, “If your dragons wish to meet me, I will welcome them to my lair. Our treat,” he motions to the apples still cooking on the fire, “will still need a moment to finish cooking, after all.”

“Your treasury room would be better suited to house them,” Hanzo doesn’t move his arm from Jesse’s hold, the dragons are preening under the attention and so is Hanzo, “lead the way.”

Jesse helps Hanzo to rise, and while he takes his hand from his elbow, he does not let Hanzo’s hand out of his grasp. Cradles Hanzo’s hand in his own like it is one of his treasures. No longer exhausted or fevered, Hanzo allows his eyes to roam freely over his host.

Jesse is thickly muscled, much of his body is covered in scale still even in his human form. The scarlet scales flow up his hands to his elbows, high on his cheeks, and down his back where his tail begins. He jangles as he moves, covered in chains and gold and other shiny adornments. Jesse is also completely nude, though nothing is visible, likely hidden away if Hanzo had to guess.

A powerful and beautiful ally to have in this dire situation, and his dragons agree. Hanzo has much to consider, and his mind is already working.

But first, a meeting. Hanzo lifts his eyes to find Jesse’s also roaming over him. He smirks in response but does not comment. Hanzo motions for Jesse to step back once they arrive in the centre of the treasure hoard.

Both of Hanzo’s dragons writhe eagerly to be set free. Hanzo lets them loose into the treasure room, the air charged with their coming as both of their ethereal forms burst forth like lightning. Jesse does not waver, nor does he shrink from them. His eyes are huge and golden, darting over both dragons and then settling on Hanzo himself.

Both dragons lower their heads to Jesse’s level in his human form, and the Dragon grins. Hanzo walks to Jesse’s side as the dragons circle them both. They rumble in that same tongue that Jesse had spoken earlier, conversing between themselves and Jesse. Hanzo only gets half of the conversation, understanding his own dragons’ intent but not Jesse’s own speech.

From what he can gather, Jesse’s very curious as to why the dragons are bound to a tiny human. Their answer seems to surprise him, and he turns a questioning gaze to Hanzo himself.

“They tell me _they are you?_” Jesse peers at Hanzo curiously, stepping closer to him.

“In a sense, yes, they are me.” Hanzo replies calmly, “They have been with me since birth. They are intrinsically tied to my life and mine is tied to theirs. You said it yourself, I have draconic blood, I don’t see why this should surprise you.”

“You intrigue me ceaselessly, my little prince,” Jesse purrs, reaching over and tipping Hanzo’s chin up with a claw delicately, which he allows, “I’m rather tempted to keep you here all to myself.”

“You will find that I am not a possession to be kept,” Hanzo bats Jesse’s hand away from his chin, though he grasps it in his own. It is his turn to bring the dragon’s hand to his lips, kissing the scaled knuckles, “Though I am not opposed to a partnership.”

“And what would sort of partnership would you suggest?” Jesse’s eyes are sharp, narrowed into slits and sizing Hanzo up, “Was our prior deal unsatisfactory?”

“Do not misunderstand,” Hanzo brings up his other hand and gently pats the dragon’s, “it was very satisfactory. Your aid is why I stand right now. It is just that I have more to offer you than mere tales, though if you desire to hear them I will still share.”

“And what do you offer me? On _top_ of your tales?” Jesse leans closer, so he’s eye to eye with Hanzo.

Hanzo meets the dragon’s gaze evenly, a sharp smile crossing his features, awash in the ethereal blue glow of his guardian spirits amongst Jesse’s hoard.

“What I offer you,” Hanzo steps closer to Jesse, moves their joined hands aside to rest Jesse’s hand on his waist, “is something you’ve been eyeing this entire time, and no man nor _dragon_ can have, but should you be amiable to my terms, _you_ can have.”

Hanzo’s own dragons catch on before Jesse does, and their agreement is a powerful surge of emotion. They whisper things in Hanzo’s tongue to him so Jesse may not overhear. Hanzo hums, tilting his head to show that he is listening to them, while Jesse just looks increasingly confused and unsure.

“They,” Hanzo nods to his dragons, “have told me much about the ways of dragons that overlap between your differing species, and what you do and have done for me has great meaning, does it not? Sharing your home and lair, even with a human, is unheard of outside of courtship. And even then, some dragons have been known to kill dragons they do not deem worthy of sharing their treasure.”

“Yet here I remain,” Hanzo waves to himself, “_unharmed, _in your presence. You could snap me like a twig and be done with it. But you don’t, because you _want me. _You have gone out of your way to impress me and tend to me. Like you would a _mate._”

“Which makes me wonder just how much of your treasure did you trade for the spices or the apples. Or the pan for that matter.” Hanzo reaches up and tucks an errant strand of Jesse’s wild hair behind his pointed ear, the dragon silent in shock with widened eyes, “Dragons have no need to cook, I really must have caught your eye, _my dragon, _for you to part with your treasures for my comfort.”

“You’re a _treasure_ of treasures,” Jesse growls suddenly and possessively, moving into Hanzo’s space. Hanzo does not flinch, continuing to stare up at the dragon evenly, even when both of his hands come to rest on Hanzo’s hips and tug him closer, “I knew what you were, _who_ you were, the _moment_ you stepped within my lair. I _felt _the storm of those that share your mortal form, and I desire to have _them,_ have _you_.”

“Being forthright is much easier, isn’t it?” Hanzo reaches up and lazily wraps his arms around Jesse’s shoulders, “Which comes back to my offer."

“_Tell me._” Jesse picks Hanzo up, which he allows. The dragon's wings come around them both as if to make this moment private despite Hanzo’s dragons being present and privy to all Hanzo knows. “If it is something you desire, it will be yours my prince.”

“Noted. But my offer to _you_,” Hanzo begins, “is _me._”

Jesse looks elated for a moment, before his eyes immediately narrow, pupils forming into slits again, “What’s the catch? What’s in it for _you_?”

“Thought you’d never ask~” Hanzo purrs, sliding down Jesse’s form, feet causing the gold under him to clink when he hops down, “Shall I tell you over the dessert you were preparing? It should be done by now.”

Hanzo takes Jesse’s hand in his and tugs him back to the library hoard. He can feel the dragon staring at him hard the entire way, trying to puzzle him out, or maybe figure how Hanzo saw through him so easily. Hanzo just looks up to him with a sly smirk, brings Jesse’s hand up to kiss again as they enter the library for their dessert.

Only when the dessert is retrieved and in front of Hanzo does he begin their conversation once more.

“I gain many things from our arrangement, should you agree.” Hanzo pops a warm apple slice into his mouth, spears another and offers it to his dragon companion, who takes it eagerly. His own dragons have shrunk to the size of Great Danes and lay at Hanzo’s sides, “Firstly, an ally where I have none. I am alone, surrounded by my enemies. Enemies which, when given the chance to chase me down and slay me, conceded to you and your territory. Clearly they fear you, and I still need your protection.”

“Second.” Hanzo feeds another apple slice to Jesse before eating another, “To have a dragon rule at my side? I would be the most revered emperor my country has ever seen. The elders would stop hounding me to find a wife, because why would they question my decision to wed _you?_ We’d be incredible together, would we not?”

“We would.” Jesse’s been inching ever closer again, curling a wing around Hanzo loosely. It makes Hanzo smile.

“Indeed.” Hanzo bites the last apple slice in half and offers the remaining half to Jesse who finishes the bite. Hanzo’s smile grows baleful, “But mostly? I want the fools who think they can get away with betraying my trust, and the goodwill of my country, to suffer for their schemes. Together, I want us to tear down the throne of lies they have built.”

“You want revenge.” Jesse’s tail flicks, his eyes alight.

“I want to set their precious kingdom ablaze,” Hanzo lifts his hands to cup Jesse’s face to bring the dragon eye to eye with him, “I want to show them that if they desired war so badly, they have brought it to their own shores by trapping _me_ here. I want to cripple their war efforts before they even _think_ to set their eyes on the rest of my home.”

“The whole country is an awful lot for one man to take on.”

“I am no ordinary man,” Hanzo says with a smirk, gives Jesse a glance over before meeting his eyes, “and I am not alone, am I? I have you.”

“You have me.” Jesse agrees, pulls Hanzo close, which Hanzo allows, “and I have _you.”_

Hanzo hums his agreement, settles into place in Jesse’s lap like a throne, and his twin dragons move to curl around the pair.

“And _you_ have _us_.”


	3. Plots and Courtship

Jesse makes sure Hanzo has all he needs to plan where to strike to stifle any war efforts against his home country. Hanzo himself cannot risk being discovered alive yet, every move he must make will have to be incredibly calculated. He decides to only begin to strike back against those who have trapped him here once the knife wound is fully healed. He will have trouble fighting with the pain that remains, anyway. Better to play it safe.

Jesse is an invaluable scout in the meantime. He brings Hanzo back information when he hunts, brings to him items that will aid his schemes. Maps and surveys of the area, reports on movements Jesse’s seen. Hanzo’s particularly interested to learn of a mine just on the outskirts of his dragon ally’s territory being set to work double-time, mining iron to be sent to smelt into steel. The miners are very displeased of the workload Jesse says, and Hanzo makes a note of it. Such knowledge may come in handy later.

Jesse also brings Hanzo more than what he needs for his plans. Sometimes, there are hours where all Hanzo hears from the dragon is the tinkling of great piles of gold and items being upended and turned over and gone through. From the hoard, Jesse pulls silks, fine clothing from both Hanzo’s homeland and Jesse’s own. He showers Hanzo in gifts of jewels, especially items set with brown topaz, claiming they bring out the fire in Hanzo’s own brown eyes. 

At night, the dragon rests his head in Hanzo’s lap and they swap stories in the library hoard. Tonight, Hanzo regales Jesse with the tale of a dragon residing on the floor of the sea in a castle built of coral and pearl. Seasons divided into wings of that grand palace. Jesse promises Hanzo once such palace when they become mates, should he desire it. He’s got friends in high places, and all Hanzo need is to ask for him to call in such favours.

“Such a place of residence would be uncomfortable for you, I imagine.” Hanzo idly traces a finger along one of Jesse’s horns before doubling back to trail along one of the dragon’s pointed ears. “A Lord of Fire under the sea?”

“If it would please you, I would learn to adapt.” Jesse just gazes up at him with lidded eyes, only a sliver of gold visible. “Just leave me the summer wing.”

“Still, it is hardly fair for you.” Hanzo hums, “Or me. The only ones truly pleased with such an arrangement would be those two.”

Both of Hanzo’s twin spirits are curled around the pair in their nest, mindful of their long bodies and the stacks of books. They lift their heads and peer at both Jesse and Hanzo, their lips curled back in a fanged smile. Pleased indeed. Hanzo rolls his eyes as they speak to Hanzo in his own tongue.

“They said the spring wing is mine, and they claim the winter and fall,” Hanzo translates for Jesse.

Jesse’s wings shake as he laughs, and he presses close and nuzzles into Hanzo’s stomach. His arms come up and curl around Hanzo, claws idly drawing patterns on the small of Hanzo’s back. Hanzo’s grown used to the dragon’s intimacy and displays of affection. Their courtship began the day Hanzo made his proposition. The gifts Jesse has been providing are part of it. Sharing his treasure hoard with his mate-to-be.

Hanzo accepts Jesse’s affection with his own motions. Trailing his hands along Jesse’s horns and through his hair, over his ears. Jesse rumbles, pleased with Hanzo’s attentions. Those gold eyes open and fixate on Hanzo, openly ogling him. There’s hunger in that golden gaze, absolutely molten. He moves in Hanzo’s embrace, lifting himself to sit before him, and pulls Hanzo into his lap. 

Those careful claws trail over Hanzo’s torso, trailing the seam of Hanzo’s yukata, pulled from the hoard like the other clothing Jesse’s provided. The touch is a flirtation and question on its own, but Jesse voices it all the same.

“Is your wound healing well?” Jesse asks, voice a low and suggestive rumble, gaze not leaving Hanzo’s as his claws tease underneath the opening of Hanzo’s yukata, “Perhaps I should check it?”

“If you desire,” Hanzo replies easily, moving with Jesse’s claws to allow his hand to slip under his clothes further, “And what do you intend, sir dragon, if it is healed?”

“I desire to lay with you tonight, my prince.” Jesse’s claws trail up, over the tail of the dragon tattoo on Hanzo’s chest, “If you will allow me.”

Those claws travel higher still to Hanzo’s shoulder and then down over Hanzo’s muscled arm and the inked scales of the dragon, the loose yukata sleeve falling easily. Hanzo presses up into Jesse’s touch when the dragon’s other hand comes up to tug the other sleeve down. Gentle claws trace the scar left from the wound, and for the first time in ages, Hanzo doesn’t shrink from it being touched. Jesse looks to Hanzo for further confirmation, that golden gaze all but devouring Hanzo.

“I will allow your attention, yes,” Hanzo replies, undoing the belt at his waist and letting his yukata pool at his elbows.

Jesse’s hands immediately fall to Hanzo’s waist to adjust their position, settling Hanzo astride his lap. Leisurely, Hanzo’s arms fold around Jesse’s neck and shoulders, and he claims the dragon’s mouth in a kiss. Both of his dragons fade from this plane of existence, but their presence is still felt nearby, and they share his contentment. It is as alone as they will allow Hanzo and Jesse to be while Hanzo is still vulnerable in a land controlled by his enemies. He does not fault them.

Hanzo privately promises his dragon that soon they will get the payment they are due in the blood of their enemies. Tonight, however, he will enjoy the attentions of his protector and partner. Hanzo does not let his mind drift to thoughts of his enemies or situation after that.

Jesse’s touch and kiss are unsurprisingly scorching. Hanzo may as well be kissing live flame, burning hotter still as their touches get more greedy. Hanzo drops his hand to his own lap, and after a few quick, precise tugs, his undergarments are flicked off to the side to be collected later. He makes to remove his yukata, but Jesse stops him.

“Keep it on,” Jesse purrs, trailing fangs and hot breath over Hanzo’s jaw to his ear, “You look gorgeous.”

Hanzo gives a prideful little hum that is swallowed by a moan when Jesse starts leaving love bites and playful little nips along Hanzo’s neck. Hanzo rolls his hips down against Jesse’s, delights in the way the dragon reciprocates, in the way the patches of rough scales rub against Hanzo’s skin as they rut together.

He maps out the dragon’s body with his hands, making note of areas Jesse particularly reacts to. Between his wings is particularly sensitive, Hanzo discovers quickly. He scratches between them, and even with Hanzo’s blunt human nails, it elicits a very apparent reaction. Jesse makes a low growl of pleasure, bites roughly at Hanzo’s shoulder and tips them both to fall against the nest with Hanzo above him, wings flaring out underneath him. Presenting them for Hanzo’s perusal, much like a bird would display their plumage for a potential mate.

Hanzo trails his fingers over the underside of one of them. Jesse leans that wing into Hanzo’s touch as they kiss. One of Jesse’s hands comes to rest at the small of Hanzo’s back, adjusting Hanzo’s hips to help find the best angle for them to rut. Hanzo wraps an arm around Jesse’s neck and clings, moving the hand from Jesse’s wing to between them. They have to stop their frantic rutting for Jesse to take Hanzo’s hand and lead it to a split in his scales between his legs, where the flared tip of his cock peeks out from.

Hanzo wishes they had better supplies and makes a note to ask Jesse to find something for future romps so Hanzo may thoroughly enjoy that cock inside him. Until then Hanzo teases and coaxes it out of its sheath. He sits up and takes it in hand and strokes it from root to tip slowly. It’s thick, ridged, and almost unbearably hot to touch. Jesse’s eyes are absolutely molten and dark with desire when their eyes lock. Hanzo slowly takes them both in hand and ruts their cocks together. It earns him a snarl of pleasure from Jesse.

“A proposition, my dear,” Hanzo takes his hand off of Jesse’s cock and rolls off of him to lay against the nest, yukata spread underneath him and the light from the fire dancing across the cut lines of his musculature. Thighs spread invitingly, “We’ve no supplies to go farther than this, but I’m sure you’ll agree that this will do for now.”

“It’ll more than do, my prince,” Jesse comes back to lean over Hanzo, kissing him greedily, slotting himself against Hanzo’s body.

They share rough, all-consuming kisses before Jesse pulls away and Hanzo reclines like a king against the cushions and silks underneath him. Claws travel up Hanzo’s legs, pulling them together to rest on Jesse’s shoulder, cock nestled between muscled thighs. Jesse’s tail flicks, nearly knocking over books piled too close to the end of their nest-bed as he begins to fuck into the space between Hanzo’s thighs, the way slicked with his own precome. His wings are in no better state than his tail, threatening to flick fully outwards to his full wingspan.

Hanzo just lays back and unhurriedly pulls at his own cock, enjoying the sight of such a powerful being consumed by lust for him and him alone. His dragons also preen at the thought. Pleased with Hanzo’s choice of mate, whispering approval. Hanzo silences them and focuses on Jesse. All the focus of an apex predator centred on Hanzo, and the focus of a hunter returned. A pleased snarl passes Jesse’s lips and he urges Hanzo to lift up enough to kiss him, meeting Hanzo halfway.

Hanzo returns to reclining when they part, lets himself get lost in his slowly building pleasure, fantasizes about how else he will fall into bed with his dragon. A baleful smile crosses his face amidst the pleasure, and it does not go unnoticed.

“What are you scheming now, my brilliant one?” Jesse huffs.

The great dragon turns his face to nuzzle at Hanzo’s leg, hands rubbing up and down them affectionately as they hold them in place. His hips slow their frantic jack rabbiting, so that he may at least listen to his future mate. Hanzo rubs over the head of Jesse’s cock when it is visible between his thighs, and Jesse hisses out a delighted moan. A reward for an ever-attentive mate.

“When we deliver my retribution and raze this kingdom to the ground,” Hanzo purrs, “I want you to fuck me on the throne.”

Jesse moans loud enough for it to be a roar within the library hoard, claws flexing possessively on Hanzo’s legs. His hips double their speed again, and Hanzo’s cheeky reply about Jesse enjoying the idea too much is lost when the dragon takes his cock in hand. Jesse does actually roar when he comes, gnashing teeth and letting Hanzo’s legs fall from where he was supporting them so he may lay flush against his mate.

He rolls them both and Hanzo goes where Jesse does, letting the dragon cradle him in his great wings as he works Hanzo’s cock over. Hanzo grasps everywhere he can reach, rutting his hips into Jesse’s touch. Jesse presses his face to Hanzo’s temple, kisses it and lets his fangs graze his ear as he whispers filthy promises. Hanzo loses himself to the deep honeyed rumble of that voice and everything that spills past that fanged smile. He comes messily between them and lays panting in bliss in the afterglow, covered in his own spend and Jesse’s.

He shivers when Jesse’s fangs graze his neck again, his cock giving a valiant twitch as Jesse continues to show attention to his most sensitive spots. Nipping affectionately and soothing over places he was a little too rough with a deceptively long tongue. Hanzo runs his fingers through Jesse’s hair and hums, sighing through his nose when Jesse kisses downward and that wicked tongue works to clean up both his own mess and Hanzo’s.

“This is how a mate should look,” Jesse purrs when he is finished, nuzzling the crease of Hanzo’s thigh, “Sated and sweet, safe in our nest.”

“I am not sweet,” Hanzo replies half-heartedly, already on the verge of dozing. He hums in thought, cracking one eye open to meet the dragon’s gaze, “Well… perhaps only for you."

“Only for me,” Jesse repeats, crawling back up and gathering Hanzo close again to cradle him in his wings.

“And you are only for me,” Hanzo responds, sinking into the warmth of Jesse’s embrace.

Jesse’s continuous pleased rumble helps coax Hanzo deeper into sleep. Both of them already plotting their first move against their enemies, but for now content at this moment. Who knows when they will be able to indulge in each other like this again. There is a long, rough road ahead, and Hanzo is grateful not to be traversing it alone.


	4. Spoiled Saboteur

Hanzo targets the mine first. 

Jesse’s presence and their alliance is a card in his hand he’s not willing to reveal yet, so while Jesse is nearby, the dragon has hidden himself away in his humanoid form unless Hanzo absolutely needs him. Even then Jesse’s reluctant to leave Hanzo’s side, uncomfortable with the thought of his intended mate going into so much possible danger. Hanzo soothes him best he can before he steals a kiss for luck before he descends the rest of the way down the mountain towards the mining outpost.

Jesse helped outfit him with some light armour, along with a bow and a quiver he claims will never drain of arrows. Fitting gifts for both their courtship and Hanzo’s purposes. These items, along with the power of his dragons and the cover of a moonless night, will be all he has going into this endeavour.

Hanzo purposely chose nightfall, not only to allow for tactical advantage, but because hopefully there will not be civilians present. Judging by Jesse’s reports, the miners are already being overworked, and Hanzo does not desire for them to be caught in the crossfire. He has also borrowed his dragons’ sight, to let him traverse down the mountain in such darkness. It makes his eyes glow an eerie blue in the dark.

Hanzo comes to the first building of the mining compound, and silently clambers up the side of the wooden structure. He inches to the edge, and lays down flat as he can to survey the area. There’s the structure of the mineshaft itself, a mess hall, some sort of warehouse and the building Hanzo himself is on, which he figures might be the foreman’s office.

There are ruts in the road, the earth soft from recent rain that shows trails from carts headed down towards the actual village below and likely beyond. Hanzo cannot see any of the workers, and only guards. They have fine leathers and have much better equipment than what guards merely posted here by the small village below. These men are likely from the capital itself.

Jesse had said in follow up reports that the miners had tried to strike, and that the guards had been posted in response. Some of them were violent towards the miners, clearly corrupt bullies. They are certainly proving themselves to be useless guards too, gathered around a table outside the mess hall and gorging themselves on the food and drink meant for the miners on the morrow. 

Hanzo watches one of the guards leave his group and begin to move behind a building to relieve himself, and draws an arrow and fires. It tears clean through the hapless guard’s throat, preventing him from making nothing other than a small wet gargle, unheard by the other group near the mess hall laughing too loud and drinking too much to pay mind.

Hanzo shifts his position in case one of the other guards gets up to investigate. He cannot see anymore guards other than the group, but he would not be surprised if there are more around. Hanzo watches the drunkards laugh, still too into their swill to notice they are one short.

Opportunity comes to be rid of them, they spill the pungent ale all over the table they have moved out of the mess hall to sit around. The lantern overhead is so easily knocked down with a well-placed arrow. Shame that ale and flesh are so flammable. Hanzo thinks he’s been hanging around his Lord of Fire too long, finding his eyes drawn to the flame even as the guards shriek and try to put themselves out.

Hanzo silences them all with more arrows and allows their bodies to burn.

When nothing else stirs after all that noise, Hanzo moves from his hiding place to the centre of the encampment, being careful to only step where other men have before in the mud. He summons his dragons to his side, much smaller than they normally would be as such bright blue light would draw attention from the village. Once he orders the dragons to check around for any stragglers and they come back confirming no other guards are present, Hanzo signals to Jesse to come down by whistling a tune into the silent night air.

Before long Jesse arrives on silent wings and lands carefully next to Hanzo, stepping forward and cupping Hanzo’s face in his scaled hands, searching him for injury. Hanzo allows the dragon’s concerned attention for only a moment before he closes the distance and leans up to kiss his dragon.

“They clearly did not want to waste too many resources making sure this mine was well protected.” Hanzo motions to the burning bodies when he pulls from Jesse, “These men were likely sent to intimidate the miners into double their production rather than guard or protect this place.”

“Perhaps they are amassing their men elsewhere, and it is indeed as you fear, my prince. They aim to go to war with your home.” Jesse hums, sniffs the air and leers at the burning remains, eyes aglow with the flame, “How unfortunate these men had a little accident. Should we throw in the other you killed? Better it seems an accident took all their lives, and not to leave a murdered odd man out.”

“You are right, my darling, it would do to do so.” Hanzo does not move from his spot and ushers Jesse to retrieve the corpse.

The dragon does so happily, tossing the other body into the fire. The flames seem to grow larger and wilder in Jesse’s presence, and the dragon delights in it. Hanzo watches as the flames slowly begin to consume the mess hall, tongues of flame licking the sky. The wind will no doubt carry the sparks to the other buildings. Hanzo moves his eyes from the flames before he gets too caught up in their dance and turns to his dragon once more.

“The fire is spreading, my dear, and with luck, it will consume this entire compound. But as much as I would love to stay here and relish in the havoc we’ve wrought, it will not be long until the flames will be spotted from the village below.” Hanzo holds out his hand and the dragon takes it, “We should return to our lair and plot our next move.”

“Rather like you calling it _our_ lair.” Jesse brings up Hanzo’s hand to his mouth and kisses along his knuckles.

Hanzo is pulled into Jesse’s embrace and bright scarlet wings shimmering gold with firelight fold around him as the dragon draws him into a proper kiss. Arms curl tight around Hanzo, hefting him up fully into the dragon’s embrace. Hanzo curls his arms around the dragon’s neck and rests his head on his shoulder, content. Those massive wings unfurl and Jesse takes off into the night, Hanzo held close like a precious stolen treasure, just as an alarm bell rings in the village below.

It is only the first of many encampments Hanzo plans to destroy in the coming months. If there is even a whisper on the wind of anything contributing to a war effort, Hanzo and his dragon are going to snuff it out. The mine they first destroyed tried to rebuild but was eventually shut down, because of what the village says is a curse. All attempts to replace what was lost won’t stop mysteriously catching fire. People begin to talk and the superstition runs rampant that the men who lost their lives haunt the place they died. It amuses Hanzo to no end when Jesse tells him of these rumours.

The village at least has their livestock they can fall back to without the mine, and if not, Hanzo was going to urge his dragon love to aid the people in any way he could. Jesse’s been keeping an eye on the village at Hanzo’s request, fearful that the capital will see the targeted attack of the mine for the sabotage it truly was, and blame the villagers. No blame has seemingly been laid onto anyone yet, and Hanzo is content that he is still believed to be dead in the eyes of the king.

Which means Hanzo is free to plot his next targets and moves. Which he does, pouring over more plans and maps and listening to tales Jesse has gathered on his outings and hunts. It’s also how Hanzo learns Jesse can make his humanoid form appear more human, which the dragon does to approach merchants to trade his gold for treats and treasures for Hanzo.

Like this gorgeous claw-footed bathtub and bathing oils Hanzo’s currently luxuriating in, tucked away into a little side cave off of the gold hoard Jesse dug just for him, swirling a jewel-encrusted goblet full of wine while he relaxes. A very expensive vintage of wine too. Jesse has spared no expense to continue to spoil his intended. Hanzo jokingly calls it his plotting tub, as it is where most of his schemes are ruminated upon and his targets are picked.

Jesse clearly just appreciates the view, hovering nearby to keep the water hot for his mate-to-be and always at the ready to hold out a hand to help Hanzo out of the tub. Those golden eyes alight with desire, following the water as it drips off of Hanzo’s form. Hanzo merely smirks up at his lover, and turns so Jesse may help wrap a towel around him and begin to dry him off. It is just by the dragon’s sheer proximity and his natural heat that most of the water on Hanzo’s form evaporates away.

Hanzo gathers the towel and lifts it to start drying his long hair, sighing in exaggerated exasperation when his dragon presses even closer, rumbling deep purrs. Those great wings curl around Hanzo, gently shepherding him back to press his body fully against Jesse’s.

“Insatiable lizard,” Hanzo scolds as arms fold around him and Jesse nuzzles him, “I just bathed, and I have no intention to get dirty again.”

“Just means that you get to have _another_ bath.” Those sharp claws trail so lightly down Hanzo’s sides and to his hips. Jesse presses a kiss behind Hanzo’s ear, “You can’t possibly blame me either, Darlin’. Look at you, you’re a treat. My treasure of treasures.”

Hanzo allows the kisses to continue, sighs as Jesse gently nibbles at his skin with those razor-sharp fangs. He turns in Jesse’s hold and wraps his arms around the dragon’s neck, fixing him with an unamused stare, though it is not holding up like Hanzo hopes. Especially when Jesse only leans down and kisses along Hanzo’s neck.

Hanzo hums and rolls his eyes before he leans against Jesse’s warm body. The dragon does run exceptionally warm, and his arms fit around Hanzo perfectly. He can’t help but lift a hand and slowly run his fingers through Jesse’s hair, making the dragon purr louder.

“If you want me in your bed tonight, you’re going to have to carry me,” Hanzo murmurs against Jesse’s shoulder. 

Jesse answers by pulling Hanzo up into his arms fully. Hanzo hums and snuggles more into Jesse’s embrace, but by the time the dragon has carried him across the sea of gold to the nest made up in the library hoard, Hanzo has fallen fast asleep. Jesse merely purrs softer, gives Hanzo gentle kisses to his temple and settles into the nest with his mate-to-be cradled close. There will be all the time in the world to enjoy intimate moments with his mate once this business of revenge all ends. 

For now, Jesse watches over Hanzo and makes sure no one and nothing interrupts his slumber. There’s much more work to be done, and Hanzo will need all the rest he can get. Jesse presses another soft kiss to Hanzo’s forehead and makes sure he’s warm and comfortable in the nest. Only then does Jesse cuddle up to Hanzo, laying a wing protectively over his intended mate. Already more than content that his gold hoard is safe, Jesse falls asleep guarding his greatest treasure.


	5. Scales, Schemes and Sacrifice

Hanzo wakes one morning to the loud noise of overturning gold. Since Jesse is not at his side, it means the dragon is the cause of the noise. He’s never been up so early though, and there’s a restlessness that’s overcome Hanzo’s own dragons that bid him check on their Lord of Fire.

Hanzo wraps himself loosely in one of the yukatas Jesse pulled from the gold hoard and makes his way from the library hoard into the sea of gold. The dragon is in his full towering glory, digging at the gold sea and attempting to clear a large area of it, and it’s the first time Hanzo’s even seen the rock floor of the lair.

Hanzo slowly approaches, cocking his head to the side when his dragon snarls suddenly and whips around, gnashing his fangs against his own scaled hide. Hanzo watches as ruby scales are dislodged and fall to mingle with the gold below the dragon’s feet.

_Shedding his scales, _One of Hanzo’s dragons whispers. The other joins in, _Our poor mate._

Hanzo steps with a little more purpose towards his partner. Jesse turns and snaps at Hanzo, those teeth gnashing only inches from Hanzo’s own nose. He does not flinch, only crosses his arms and stares up at the dragon unamused. Jesse does not offer any other apology other than to lower his great head and press his snout to Hanzo’s torso. He must be in great discomfort to have snapped at Hanzo and to still be growling even now.

Hanzo smoothes a hand along the bridge of Jesse’s snout, walks alongside the dragon’s head as he trails a hand up to the ridge above one of Jesse’s golden eyes. The slitted pupil immediately fixates on Hanzo, and while his fangs are still bared, Jesse does not make to snap at Hanzo again. The dragon even leans into Hanzo’s touch, rumbles in gratitude when Hanzo moves a hand to scratch behind the small pointed ear just below Jesse’s horn, dislodging the smaller scales there.

“My dragons tell me you are shedding, and your irritableness and short temper is to be expected during such a time.” Hanzo pauses and looks over the dragon’s form, where there are gouges where scales have been removed by Jesse likely scratching and gnawing at himself, “Are you in pain?”

“Not over— alright, perhaps a little.” Jesse finally speaks, voice a deeper rumble than Hanzo’s ever heard, “Shedding is… unpleasant is putting it mildly. In all our excitement, I forgot my fifth-hundredth year has come, and the shedding that comes with it.”

Jesse pauses in speaking and attempts to turn and bite at himself again, and Hanzo’s dragons advise him to stop Jesse so he does, moving to catch Jesse’s snout in his arms. Smoke rushes out of Jesse’s nostrils in an annoyed huff, but he presses his head into Hanzo’s hold. Hanzo smoothes over the bridge of Jesse’s snout again and rubs between the dragon’s eyes. The dragon rumbles a growl again, tail thrashing from side to side.

“And you are moving and digging up the gold in hopes to dislodge scales with all that movement?” Hanzo guesses.

Jesse shakes his head, presses his head more against Hanzo’s chest in a nuzzle. Kept from biting at himself, his great wings unfurl and flap in frustration a few times, sending loose gold scattering back into the empty spot on the floor Jesse _just_ cleared with the force of the wind. Scales are also dislodged from the movement, and Jesse bares his fangs and hisses, flame licking out from between his teeth. Hanzo has to move from Jesse then, lest he catch fire or be burned.

When Jesse has calmed enough that the flames die down, Hanzo presses close again, tugging Jesse by the horn lightly so he lowers his great head into Hanzo’s lap when he sits upon the gold. The dragon goes where Hanzo tugs easily and lowers himself, still growling in discomfort. Hanzo continues to rub his hands over Jesse’s snout to soothe him.

“I need the gold moved to prepare to harden the new scales when they come in.” Jesse explains, “Normally to do so I would just go bathe in a lake of fire, but the mountain I went to for my three-hundredth year shed has since been sleeping, and any others are days, if not _weeks_, away. I will not go back on my word to you and leave you unprotected for such a long period.”

Hanzo can’t help but be a little touched, even if such a decision is detrimental to his dragon protector. His dragons’ rumble their agreement but are sympathetic to the Lord of Fire’s plight. It is hard to leave a mate, even just an intended one, alone for so long. Especially when Hanzo is in a very dangerous situation and Jesse is one of the reasons he is still and continues drawing breath.

“…You need a pyre built.” Hanzo voices his realization out loud as he looks to clear space in the middle of gold, “I can help you, or at least try to. I’m sure the fire you will need to temper your scales will have to burn very hot. My dragons desire to help you in any way they can too.”

Jesse rumbles another growl, but it is much softer than the others he has made today. A sound of gratitude, if Hanzo had to guess. The dragon presses his head against Hanzo, nudging him and nuzzling him. Hanzo wraps an arm around Jesse’s snout in a loose hold as he pets along the top of Jesse’s head.

While holding Jesse’s head in his lap, Hanzo thinks on how to soothe the irritated scales. He thinks back to the silvered bowl, and how it had healed his own wounds when he had first come here. Gently, he shuffles out from under Jesse’s head, giving Jesse a reassuring pat on the snout when the dragon rumbles sadly at his intended leaving his side.

Hanzo is not gone for long, pulling the remaining fine fabrics Jesse did not use to make the nest in the library hoard out from the piles of gold and piling them next to Jesse. After he has accrued a good amount for the purpose he intends for them, Hanzo retrieves the silver bowl from the library hoard. Jesse lifts his head to look over at Hanzo in confusion when he begins to lift and tug the fabrics over the dragon’s large form after setting the bowl near Jesse’s front foot for safekeeping.

Of course, Jesse’s full dragon form is massive, so climbing him cannot be avoided. Hanzo makes sure to soothe the dragon when he has to do so, apologizing when he irritates the scales further. Hanzo summons his own dragons at one point, bidding them to soothe and comfort Jesse while Hanzo works. Both spirit dragons curl around Jesse, laying as close as they can to offer comfort while Hanzo sets about his plan. 

When the fabrics are laid over Jesse’s form, Hanzo slides back down to retrieve the silvered bowl. Slowly, Hanzo starts pouring the magic water over the fabric, making sure to cover where he knows Jesse’s scratched and bit himself raw. The water steams as soon as it makes contact with Jesse’s form, but the soothing magic still holds. Perched on Jesse’s back, Hanzo feels every sigh of relief Jesse makes as the magic water soothes the irritated scales and wounds, the fabric helping the water to spread more evenly as it becomes soaked.

Hanzo does this repeatedly for many hours after the initial pass, climbing over his dragon and making sure his most wounded and irritated areas are tended with the water. Sometimes Hanzo moves the fabric aside and gently rubs or plucks out the old scales, tossing them down to the gold below. Some of them are the size of Hanzo’s fists, and he has to tug at those as they are more stubborn ones. He always makes sure to soothe and show the areas the most stubborn scales clung to the most attention with the silvered bowl.

Slowly though, Hanzo plucks out old deep crimson scales and soothes the new, bright scarlet ones. The new scales are softer, Hanzo can tell already, but they are beautiful. He sends his dragons to clear the gold sea for more room for the pyre Jesse requires. Jesse’s been watching Hanzo this entire time, but he’s not commented on what Hanzo’s been doing otherwise. 

Jesse does fight Hanzo when it comes to the last few scales on his tail though. For anyone passing below the mountain, it would seem like a great battle is occurring. The reality is not so epic. Jesse thrashes his tail as Hanzo stubbornly clings and scrubs at it to loosen the remaining scales, the dragon roaring with his eyes and mouth aglow with flame. Hanzo’s dragons, ever patient and keeping the Lord of Fire from simply turning and blasting Hanzo with his fire breath, explain that the tail has the most scales per inch on a dragon’s form, and a lot of them get really stuck in during a shed. Hanzo understands, sure, but vows to only apologize _after_ he’s done and Jesse’s stopped trying to flick his tail and toss him around like a rag doll.

Thankfully, the worst part is soon over, and both Jesse and Hanzo lay panting, Hanzo flopped over Jesse’s now still tail and Jesse curled in towards his intended. He nudges his nose against Hanzo’s side, and Hanzo bats at his snout, sitting up and giving him a halfhearted glare. Jesse rumbles softly and noses at Hanzo again, and Hanzo sighs and flops against Jesse’s snout, petting along Jesse’s face and accepting the dragon’s apology.

Yet this isn’t truly over, and now Hanzo faces the biggest puzzle to solve in this whole endeavour; The pyre Jesse requires to harden his new scales. 

His dragons have provided a lot of space for the pyre, having piled the gold high as it will go while being as safe a distance as it can be in this massive chamber. The issue now is finding things to _burn_. Hanzo doubts Jesse will want to part with anything or destroy anything in his hoards, and while there is a forest below, Hanzo cannot carry any lumber up the mountain himself.

His dragons could fetch firewood. However, his dragons are also very visible and very clearly not of this plane _or _country. It would draw attention and reveal that Hanzo is still alive and somewhere in the mountain pass. Hanzo soothingly rubs over Jesse’s snout as he thinks. Jesse nudges Hanzo gently.

“I can hear the cogs in your head turning,” Jesse voices, “You’ve done more than enough for me. You do not have to endanger yourself to retrieve anything else for me, I can go gather things for the pyre myself.”

“Are you not more vulnerable like this?” Hanzo asks, concerned.

“I am, But—“

“Then I will accompany you.” Hanzo’s voice brokers no argument, “I can hunt while you fell trees, and gather kindling to help set the blaze. Help guard you.”

“You do not have to do that, my prince.”

“Perhaps not, but I desire to.” Hanzo rubs between Jesse’s eyes again, the dragon seems to love such a touch in this form, “Are you not my mate-to-be?”

The dragon rumbles softly, nuzzles his massive head more against Hanzo, “You are.”

“Then we will do this together.” Hanzo rests his chin on Jesse’s snout, “We can go whenever you are ready since I can’t imagine after all that shedding that you are eager to move your wings right now.”

“Not one bit,” Jesse rumbles as he presses his head more into Hanzo’s lap, “I’m quite alright where I am right now, to be honest. Think I’ll nap here for a while.”

Jesse does so. Hanzo joins him, curled over Jesse’s snout and clinging to him in his sleep. It is not comfortable at all, but it is warm enough that Hanzo does not mind when he wakes later that evening. Jesse nudges at Hanzo and bids to him find his bow, and Hanzo goes off to collect both it and his quiver and some other supplies.

Jesse gives a few testing flaps of his wings and finding no discomfort, waits for Hanzo to clamber up his back once he is roadworthy. Hanzo settles behind Jesse’s shoulder blades, grasping at the spines along Jesse’s back to hold onto as the dragon moves to the nearest wall and digs his claws into the rock to climb to the top of the mountain and the mouth of his lair. Once at the top, Jesse spreads his wings and leaps forward off of the mountain to coast down towards the wood below.

They try to make short work of their purposes for coming down here. Hanzo does not stray far from Jesse's side best that he can, but the dragon’s presence means that any large game was scared away deeper into the forest. Best Hanzo can do is the small game cowering in the foliage as close as he can to Jesse as he fells trees, so he in turn fells any rabbits and quails that he can spot. 

The rabbit fur may aid when the colder months hit should Hanzo still be here in this land, and the quail feathers Hanzo can use for kindling Jesse’s pyre. He has no need to make more arrows because of the magic quiver Jesse gifted to him, and he is thankful for that. The fewer supplies he needs to stock up on, the better chance he will remain unnoticed.

He eventually returns to Jesse with a sack full of his quarry and a few bundles of sticks, finding the dragon on a return trip from the mountain. Around Jesse are the stump remains of almost a dozen fallen trees, splintered by the dragon’s strength. Jesse turns to Hanzo expectantly, and only after a moment does Hanzo reach into his sack and pull out a quail, tossing it into Jesse’s waiting jaws.

His dragon lifts one of his front feet to gently pull Hanzo close and nuzzle him in thanks for the snack. Hanzo gives the tip of Jesse’s snout a small kiss before he walks around to clamber up Jesse’s back. Hanzo anchors his sack of quarry and his bindles of kindling best he can up there for Jesse to take back up the mountain before he slides back down to go gather more kindling. A pyre large enough to engulf a dragon of Jesse’s size will need as much kindling as it can get.

“This’ll be my last trip up with the trees, Han,” Jesse gives Hanzo another nudge, “I got enough logs I think, then I can come to get you and the rest of the kindling.”

“Alright, I will not be far from here, call for me if I am not waiting here already.” Hanzo gives Jesse a reassuring pat, knowing the dragon does not like to be far from Hanzo, “Worse comes to worst, I can fend for myself until you return.”

Jesse rumbles and gives Hanzo another affectionate nudge before he turns and lifts into the air again. Hanzo watches his form fly back up the mountainside before he turns and heads back into the woods.

There is still plenty of fallen branches and twigs to gather up, and any branches too long to carry Hanzo shortens with a hatchet. He’s got a rather decently sized pile going before it occurs to him that he’s not alone in the woods. He pauses in his work and stands, his dragons sharing in his unease. Hanzo moves his bow from his back and nocks an arrow, pressing back against a tree that is surrounded with thick brush.

He hears the horses first, they whicker uneasily as they snap through the underbrush, seeking paths large enough for them to pass through. Then, Hanzo hears the riders speaking in hushed tones, close enough for him to hear.

“The beast was throwing a tantrum something fierce earlier, the scouts said,” the first man says to his company, “With what the scholars have said and the approximate age o’ this big red beastie, it’ll be the best time to finally kill this thing once an’ for all.”

“Why now though?” Another, younger man asks, “That dragon’s been living on that peak for centuries.”

“First off, ‘parently that thing sheds its armour once e’ry couple o’ hundred years.” The leader replies, and Hanzo can see him well enough to spot a cruel, greedy gleam to his eye, “Secondly, His Lordship desires the beast’s head to give ta the Lord Shimada, says he’s been askin’ after the beastie that killed his boy. King’s gonna give a handsome reward ta whomever brings ‘im its head so he can hand it over to Lord Shimada as a gift o’ goodwill before he guts the bastard himself.”

Hanzo’s clutching his bow so tight in his grasp it creaks. The horses take notice of the sound, their ears swivelling towards him, but the men take no notice of their notice. Only fools do not listen to their horses. Hanzo is glad that these men are fools.

_Soon they will be dead fools, _Hanzo’s dragons chime in, calling for the blood of those that would seek to harm Jesse and Hanzo’s own father.

Hanzo draws his arrow, taking aim, and looks for an opening in the armour of the leader that will kill him outright. The less men he has to deal with, the better, and he has no intention of going up against a man equipped with a maul. 

Hanzo doesn’t get to fire when the ground shakes, and Jesse calls his name. The men spur their horses forwards, heading towards the clearing of felled trees Jesse made, knowing their quarry is close. Hanzo looses his arrow but the horse speeds past and it glances off the leader’s armour, and Hanzo has no choice but to give chase. 

The horses are faster, and they burst out of the woods into the clearing ahead. Jesse roars as he’s met with the group of wanna be dragon slayers, and Hanzo exits the tree line and fires at the nearest horse. It rears and tosses its rider, galloping away to safety. One of the men bringing up the rear of the group takes notice of Hanzo, and charges him. Hanzo barely ducks out of the way as a sword swings for his head, and he rolls to try to position himself closer to Jesse.

It’s not working, the men on the horses are trying to surround the dragon, putting them between Jesse and Hanzo, even if most of them are not privy to Hanzo’s presence just yet. The man who swung at him lets the others know, and some turn to engage Hanzo, though they are clearly confused by his presence here.

Hanzo has no choice but to call his dragons to his side as he is circled by men on horseback, his spirits helping to give him some distance by spooking the horses away. One of the men’s face’s light up in recognition, and too late does Hanzo recognize him as one of the men on the hunting party that chased him up the mountain in the first place.

“Hey lads! We got a bigger problem! That bowman is the Shimada brat!” the man cries, waving his spear at Hanzo, “Kill him!”

Jesse roars as that order is given, biting at one of the men surrounding him before he flings him off into the woods, swiping others out of the way, fighting to get to Hanzo’s side. Hanzo rolls and ducks and fires as the men swing their weapons for him, trying to do much of the same as Jesse. The man with the maul charges Hanzo, swinging wildly for his head, but before he can reach Hanzo Jesse’s front foot comes crashing down on the man with a furious roar from the dragon. The man is knocked clean off his horse and squashed under Jesse’s massive clawed foot as his other front foot comes up and curls protectively around Hanzo.

Hanzo takes a deep breath and lunges out of Jesse’s hold to dart to the dragon’s other front foot for cover as he returns fire, sending an arrow through the throat of another bowman. Jesse’s softer hide is already peppered with arrows and cuts, the blood staining Jesse’s new scarlet scales a deeper red, but the dragon has not faltered yet and neither will Hanzo.

Jesse rears up to finish off the hunting party, flames licking out from between his teeth. Hanzo spots the javelin before Jesse does, and whips to fire at the man before he can throw it. He’s too late, his arrow hits just as the javelin is tossed, and above him, Hanzo hears Jesse cry out in pain, the javelin caught in his chest.

There’s a roar in Hanzo’s ears as he watches Jesse crumple in pain above him and Hanzo realizes too late that it is his own cry of agony. Him, and his dragons both, furious that someone would harm their mate. Jesse tears out the javelin, though his breathing is heavy, and sparks are flying out of his wound. He stands above Hanzo, snarling, though Hanzo notices him trembling. Jesse speaks in the tongue of dragons, and Hanzo’s own dragons translate, though it is nothing Hanzo or his dragons have any desire to hear.

** _You must run._ **

“No!” Hanzo roars, pulling an arrow and firing at the next man who approaches Jesse, “I will not abandon you!” 

** _My treasure of treasures, they will kill you._ **

“Let them try!” Hanzo draws and fires, draws and fires, tears blurring his vision but his aim remaining true, “_They_ will die.”

** _Hanzo…_ **

Hanzo ignores him, and keeps firing. Jesse, despite his wounds, keeps fighting too. Hanzo feels his own dragons rise, their teeth gnashing, wanting to sink their own fangs into those who have wronged them in so many ways. Hanzo feels his vision blurring, but this time it is not tears, it is his dragons fighting to surface and take control, something far different than merely summoning them. Everything smells of ozone and brimstone.

There were warnings back home, that if the dragons were allowed such freedoms, the lines between a vessel and the spirits would blur far too much. It is a dangerous thing to do and ill-advised, Hanzo’s seen the result of the Dragon’s Touch. Seen the husks the spirit dragon’s vessels become when they try to contain so much power in a mortal form. 

Hanzo’s own mother was one of them.

_We would never be so callus with you, young master._

Hanzo grits his teeth, keeps firing.

_Our mate is dying, you will die. We can end this and save you. Save _him_. Just let us._

Jesse intercepts a blow meant for Hanzo, the weapon cracking against the dragon’s snout that just hours before Hanzo was soothing his hands over to comfort his intended mate. Hanzo doesn’t want to admit that this is a losing battle, Jesse is at his most vulnerable, critically wounded and unwilling to leave Hanzo’s side. As soon as the dragon wavers and falls, Hanzo will be slaughtered.

Hanzo’s eye catches Jesse’s, sees the despair there. Heart in this throat, Hanzo pleads with his dragons, gives in, and his vision goes black.

“_Wonderful.” _The dragons say in layers of Hanzo’s voice, moving their fingers briefly, fascinated by the feeling of their vessel’s movement. They turn unnaturally blue pupil-less eyes towards the stunned men,_ “Now, let us begin.”_


	6. Maelstrom

The men after their Lord of Fire clearly don’t know what to do with this predicament they find themselves in. The dragons preen, baring their fangs with Hanzo’s face, the human form of their master barely containing their storm. Overhead, storm clouds are moving in, making the early evening sky turn from the red of the setting sun to a dark, malevolent black.

Jesse, dear sweet Jesse, their beloved mate, seems in shock at this development himself. There will be time to speak of this with him, once they are both safe in their lair, and the pyre made to harden his scales. Once they are safe, yes, they will explain what has come to pass.

But first, the fools who have come to slay their mate and their master must die.

They toss their master’s bow aside, leaping forward with unnatural speed. The man is dead before he can even move to intercept or dodge the attack. The sound of his neck snapping is music to the dragons' ears. The scream the next man makes adds to the symphony. They’ve not had such freedoms before, feeling the earth beneath the soles of their feet, even if they are still trapped in this mortal form. It is as close as tearing away the veil between the spirit realm where they tread to the material plane as they will come.

As such, they rip and tear and rend at flesh and metal with unnatural strength, delighting in the blood that stains their hands. Their mate is the only one who can truly follow their dance of death, as dragons on the mortal plane possess true sight. He likely can comprehend what the human men the dragons are felling left and right cannot see; where the dragons bleed over in the human body they currently possess. Spectral claws and horns and ears and tail, unseen by mere human sight.

It only makes the dragons want to preen more, present the heart of each man to their mate after they have harmed him so, gain more of his attentions and prove they are worthy mates. They cannot at this moment though, they must make quick work of the slayers, their mate’s current condition is worsening. The remaining men are at least wise enough to start to turn tail and flee. 

The dragons want to chase, to continue to kill and maim and bring death to those who threatened his mate, and will no doubt reveal the fact their master lives. Jesse, however, needs to return to his lair, and he will not leave without them, they know this. Overhead thunder rolls and lightning begins to dance along the clouds.

The storm should keep any more of their enemies at bay while their mate recovers.

The hoofbeats of all the frightened horses and the screams of the men fleeing the dragons ignore, instead turning to come to Jesse’s side. Somewhere deep inside, there is agony in their soul, their master concerned for their mate. The dragons lift their hands to Jesse’s snout, pet along his face to soothe him. Their overlapping purrs are nearly drowned out by the thunder overhead.

_“Can you fly?”_ they speak lowly, walking to Jesse’s side, _“We do not wish to strain you.”_

“Hanzo…” Jesse’s golden eyes are wide with shock still, “My prince are you— is he still in there?”

_“Later, our mate, you need to rest.” _They press their forehead to the side of Jesse’s head, smooch his ruby scales, just because they are able to show their affection now too, _“They will try to harm you again. We must return to the lair.”_

Jesse nods, nuzzles against their smaller form. The dragons clamber up Jesse’s back, pulling arrows from his hide on the way up. They settle between his great wings, pull an axe from where it was lodged in the joint of the left wing. Jesse hisses in pain, but thanks them. Jesse does not fly but claw his way back up the mountain back into his lair. Soon enough they are safely back inside their sea of gold, the wind whistling outside and the thunder loud enough that it seems to shake the mountain.

The dragons slide off of Jesse’s form once he collapses into a pile overtop of the logs he’s set into a pyre, breathing heavy. They retrieve the silvered bowl and the cloths their master had used before to soothe Jesse’s scales. They pass by the sack of game that their master had gathered and scoop that up too, their beloved needs to regain his strength, and the meat will help.

They sit near Jesse’s head first, plucking feathers from the quails and offering the featherless birds to their mate to eat, which he does. Once they have done that, they move to soothe Jesse’s wounds. Once again tirelessly tending to their mate. Jesse watches them, they can feel his gaze on them. They do make a strange sight, their spectral forms overlapping the appearance of their master’s mortal form. They make Jesse lay on his side so they may get to his chest, where they gently prod at the deep wound.

It is still glowing with embers, sparks slowly seeping from the gash along with blood that is steaming and near boiling to the touch. Whatever remained of the javelin has long since burned to ash. Likely the man had been aiming for Jesse’s heart but hit the very essence of the Lord of Fire instead. Using the magic water here might not be the wisest choice, and they will have to be very careful when they clean the wound. The last thing they wish to do is cause irreversible harm to their mate by extinguishing his inner fire.

They use a dry cloth to wipe the blood away, though they have to put it out when it catches fire when they swipe it too close to the wound. Jesse at least is in good humour about it, his wings shaking with his hoarse laugh. They huff and lean in to kiss over the wound, unbothered by the heat emanating from the dragon’s form. Jesse noses them and gently nudges them with his snout toward a corner of the sea of gold, where the dragons find a chest buried containing crystal bottles containing deep red liquid.

They feed the bottles whole to their mate, the crystal crunching and melting in Jesse’s jaws. Slowly the worst of his wounds close, and they cannot help but be deeply moved at their mate’s devotion to them and their master. Staying at their side even when he could have easily left them to fend for themselves in the wood and retreated back into his lair.

It takes them long into the night to tend to the remainder of Jesse’s wounds, the silvered bowl aiding in healing where arrows have pierced and swords have slashed across the soft scales. They have tended the wounds best that they can, and now work to build the rest of the pyre around their mate so his scales may harden and help him heal. 

The Lord of Fire stops them before they can set the pyre ablaze.

“Wait,” Jesse pleads, lifting his head to look to them, “You promised you would explain. What has happened to you? Where is Hanzo?”

_“He is still here,” _they say as their spectral tail flicks as they fold themselves to sit next to Jesse’s head, petting over the bridge of his nose, _“Mostly.”_

“Mostly?!” Jesse lifts his head out of their hold, baring his teeth, “What have you done to him?”

_“Nothing he did not ask for.”_ They remain calm, peering up at the Lord of Fire with those eerie blue eyes, _“He wanted to save you, so he let us take his body.” _The dragons tilt their head, blinking up at Jesse as they sit calmly before him, _“Mortal bodies are not meant to directly house such power like ours within them. We can return him to you if you wish, but he will not be the Hanzo you have come to know. He will be but a shade of himself. A husk. Such is the fate of those who have allowed beings such as ourselves to reside fully in a mortal vessel for a time.”_

Jesse jolts upright even more, snarling, “Then you have killed him!”

_“Hush. It was his choice to save you, our mate.” _The dragons merely lean close, rest their borrowed body over a log, pillowing their arms underneath their head, _“His spirit is still here within this body, not truly gone, so he is not dead. Do not be so dramatic, Lord of Fire. His love for you is why his spirit holds strong, it is why he has made this choice.”_

Jesse is seething, and if not for his exhaustion or wounds would likely be pacing and snapping and snarling at the dragons residing in the body of his lover. They are sure in time he will be grateful for their master’s selflessness. It is not like the Lord of Fire is suddenly without a mate either, they are still here. They have cared for and defended him as a mate would. They will continue to do so, as it was their master’s orders for them to do so.

“You will fix this!” Jesse roars, bringing them out of their thoughts, “You will return him to me, whole and hale, or I swear I will scour the ends of this earth and have you banished into the very abyss if I must!” 

_“…You would insult our master’s last act so?!” _They snarl, lifting themselves to their feet, uncaring if they are facing down a much larger foe than them as they are in this tiny mortal form, _“He bade us protect you, and you would throw his selflessness away!”_

“Was it his selflessness or _your selfishness_ that caused this?” Jesse snarls, teeth gnashing, “How do I know you were not lying in wait for any chance for a semblance of freedom from whatever plane you reside in the first place?!”

_“Do not assume you know us! We, who have been at our master’s side since his birth! We, who have watched over him, have kept him safe long before you laid eyes upon him!”_ they roar back, stepping up to stand their ground, _“We gave him our word that we will protect you, our mate. We—“ _they place their hands over their chest and are almost startled at feeling a heart thundering inside their own ribcage, _“—would never have harmed him on purpose. We only gave him a choice, an option, and he took it. So do not stand there and claim we had ill-will toward him!”_

Their breath is coming in gasps as they continue, _“Our lives are tethered to his, our very existence is _his. _He is us just as we are him, we do not exist without him. But we cannot exist in the same space.” _They shut their eyes, bury their face in their hands. They do not know when or how they have begun to weep. _“Our power is dangerous when wielded in such a way, and mortals are so delicate. This is not what we desired, but it was his choice, and we stand by his choice.”_

They do not realize that they have crumpled to the floor in their agony, not until the Lord of Fire gently nudges them. They throw their arms around his snout and weep with their forehead pressed to the bridge of Jesse’s nose. Somewhere deep inside them, the sorrow is shared, what remains of their master still desperately clinging.

_“We just wanted to save us.”_ They say, clinging to Jesse desperately, _“But we have only caused more problems. And now, now we’ve been discovered. Those that seek to harm both you and our master— We think they mean to lure his father here to kill him.”_

The Lord of Fire’s face has softened considerably, and there’s a flash of warmth and flame and then he’s gathering them close. Cocooning them in his great wings like he has done to Hanzo many times before. They have never tasted fear before, and they do not like it, they do not like trembling in their mate’s arms like this.

“We’ll figure this all out,” Jesse promises, petting their hair and rocking them in his arms, “We’ll bring him back, we’ll set it right, but you have to wrack your brain and think if there is a way to fix this. And you have to promise me you will hold to Hanzo tight. If what you are saying is true, and there’s a piece of him left in there, you need to keep that close. Do_ not_ let him slip away.”

_“We will do as we have always done.” _They nuzzle into Jesse for comfort, _“We will protect him.”_

“He’s going to need it.” Jesse sighs and gives the dragons residing in Hanzo’s form one more comforting squeeze before he pulls back to look them in the eyes, “The whole country is going to come down on us. Will you two be okay to fight in this state?”

They understand what the Lord of Fire truly means. It is in his eyes.

_Will Hanzo last long enough to save if there are delays in seeking a way to reverse this when war comes calling?_

_ “We will do as we have done,” _they repeat. It is all they can do.

Jesse nods, accepting their answer for what it is. He seems to hesitate for a split second before he kisses their forehead, and then softly pecks them on the lips. Such gentleness toward them, especially after seeing the Lord of Fire at his fiercest, makes something swell within them.

The part that remains clinging inside their chest calls it love. They have not felt love either. They like it.

Long after they have lit the pyre to help temper the Lord of Fire’s scales, they sit in the mouth of the library hoard’s chamber, watching the flames dance around the form of their mate as he sleeps in the fire from a safe distance. Their hand lays over their heart, feeling the steady beat of it under their palm.

As long as this heart beats, Hanzo remains. They promise him that one day they all will be whole again.


	7. Adrift

Hanzo doesn’t know much at this moment but the fact that he is simultaneously safe and in danger. His body is in danger, his spirit is safe, or at least he hopes it is. Hanzo is, or at least he believes he is, in the place his dragons dwell. Pristine, almost mirror-like water surrounds Hanzo, but it is solid a foot or so beneath the surface. He himself is safe and dry on a boat equipped with nothing but a single lantern that he woke up on just a moment before, adrift in this strange place.

In the distance, there is a storm surrounding him on all sides, but it never draws closer, nor does Hanzo drift closer. He just remains in one spot, floating on this strange astral sea. He wonders if this is always like this when his dragons are dismissed back to this plane, or does their presence change it? Has it changed because it is he who now resides here?

Hanzo pulls up his knees and rests his chin on them, wishing for Jesse’s warm embrace. Yet he cannot regret this choice, deep down he knows Jesse is alive and safe because of it. His dragons have promised him, and he knows they have done as he asked. Hanzo can still feel his connection to them, though it is faint right now. They are a mess of confusion and other strong emotions, unused to being in a mortal form, let alone a human one.

Hanzo tries to send back his own reassurances, trying to centre himself enough to reach back. He can’t find it in himself to panic anyways, even despite knowing that there is a very real chance he will be trapped here. As soon as that thought comes he feels the connection to his dragons swell.

_We will figure out how to fix this. We promised our mate. _

A beat passes.

_He misses you._

“I miss him too,” Hanzo speaks aloud into the still air, “Tell him for me?”

_We will._

There is an undeniable joy at being able to contact him feeding through the connection to his spirit dragons, and Hanzo takes it as a good sign. The fact that he is still even here is a good sign. Tales of those who have suffered from the Dragon’s Touch do not end well. Most of the scholars who have studied the cases theorize that in exchanging places with one’s dragon spirit, sometimes the dragon’s power can inadvertently destroy their vessel’s spirit. This is why Hanzo’s clan channels their spirit guardians through weaponry.

This is a unique circumstance in so many aspects, Hanzo’s not entirely sure how to come to a solution. His entire existence is a unique circumstance in his clan, being born with two dragon spirits. Some believe Hanzo once had a twin that did not survive in the womb, and that is why he was gifted with two spirits. How he has not been destroyed by such overwhelming power from _two_ spirits, he does not know, doesn’t even know where to begin to try to understand what this may mean for him.

He puzzles over it, for how long he does not know. Hanzo only knows that on the mortal plane, night has come, because his connection to his dragons becomes stronger. They even manage to appear to him, though they are small in size and transparent where they likely should be solid in this plane. Unwilling to completely leave Hanzo’s body unattended, which may be for the best. Hanzo wonders if his body would start to wither away without some form of occupation from either him or his dragons.

He does not dwell on those thoughts long, urging his dragons near to hold them close. They nuzzle up to him, making low comforting purrs and chitters. Hanzo clings for as long as they allow him to before they pull away and twine together in his lap.

They tell him all that has passed in the mortal plane, of Jesse’s worry and vow to aid in saving Hanzo however he can. Hanzo is pleased to hear both that and that Jesse’s scales have been tended to, and his hide is back to being near-impenetrable again. They also speak of Jesse’s concern that those to seek to harm Hanzo will come for him sooner or later, or at worst move forward with their plans to lure Hanzo’s father like they had done with Hanzo. 

Without Sojiro or Hanzo to take his father’s place, it will leave Genji the seat of the Shimada throne. Genji, while an incredible warrior by his own right, is no tactician. Conquering Hanamura would be far easier with Hanzo’s younger brother in power. That is of course if Sojiro does not bring Genji with him to “avenge” his brother.

Hanzo listens and considers this long after his dragons have fallen silent, waiting for his thoughts on the matter or further instruction. Their eyes are glittering with murderous intent, furious with the plots of their enemies. Hanzo lifts a hand and rubs over their backs to soothe both spirits. 

“We must fix this issue first if I am to help my father and my home, I must be present.” Hanzo looks to his spirits, “Tell me what you know of this situation. Why am I lingering still when many of my kin have withered and died after doing as I have done?”

_We wish we knew. The fact that you have survived is remarkable. You are very powerful indeed, young master. Our mate will be pleased that you are in good health, and at least seem to be in good spirits._

“I am doing as well as I assume I can,” Hanzo admits, looking around at his boat adrift the astral sea, “I just wish I knew what to do now.” He looks back to his dragons, unable to help the small sardonic smile from coming to his face, “If only I were a dragon like you both, then I could pass between these worlds far easier.”

The dragons’ tiny eyes glitter like the countless stars above and below that are mirrored on the waters. They rumble and purr and chitter, seemingly having a conversation between them both. It is the first time Hanzo cannot feel their intentions, and it confuses him. Never have they hidden anything from him. The moment passes before he can call attention to it, both of the small spirits drifting up to float around Hanzo’s head.

_There is perhaps a way. But to get such knowledge you would have to drift farther out over the sea, and it will be dangerous, and often you will be without us as we guard our mate and your body. The spirit realm, this sea, is not meant for mortal souls, and we have guarded you and made this haven to protect you from what else dwells here. You could be lost forever._

“Yet if I do manage to do this, I would be able to leave. I can return to help my father keep my home safe and return to Jesse.” Hanzo rubs over his face as he considers it.

It is better than sitting here and waiting for something to happen.

“I will go.” Hanzo looks to his dragons, determination in the set of his mouth and burning in his eyes, “Tell Jesse what I have chosen when you wake tomorrow. Send him my affections, and watch over him in my stead.”

_We will._

They circle around Hanzo and rub up against him, purring and rumbling. Hanzo takes them into his arms and holds them close best he can, squeezing his eyes shut. When he opens them again, the storm in the distance has calmed, and the oarless boat he has been drifting on is now equipped with them. His dragons urge him to take them so he does. They circle around him and turn to look to the East. Hanzo follows their gaze.

_Travel East. You will not perish unless you do any of the following, so listen close._

The dragons circle back around him, and both float face to face with them gazes deathly serious.

_ Do not look too closely into the water, and no matter what you must not drink of it, no matter how thirsty you become. You also must not speak with _anyone_ but the hermit. You will find her on an isle of fog if you keep rowing East. She may know what to do. We will be back when the sun sets on the mortal plane to accompany you, but otherwise, we cannot let your body go unprotected when the day breaks. Not with so many enemies around us._

_ “_I understand.” Hanzo slowly starts to turn the boat to face East. “I will abide these rules. I will not fail.”

_We pray for your safe return, young master. We can accompany you until the sun rises on the mortal plane, then we must leave you to continue the journey on your own._

Hanzo nods solemnly and begins to row in earnest, and the small boat glides over the water. The only sounds are the oars cutting through the water’s surface and the creaking of the small lantern attached to the front. His dragons keep their word and stay with Hanzo for as long as they can. They float alongside Hanzo’s boat, keeping him on track. A boon when everything all around him looks the same.

Hanzo rows and rows, and it feels like he is getting nowhere, but his dragons assure him he is moving towards his goal. It only comforts Hanzo some. He is about to ask how much farther when the boat suddenly pitches to the side, the side of the boat coming low enough to nearly dip beneath the water’s surface. Hanzo nearly looks into the water to see what has happened when one of his dragons swings around and presses to his face to keep him looking forward.

Out of the corner of his eye, Hanzo sees his other dragon dive with their fangs bared to attack a thin, boney hand that has grasped onto the side of the boat. When the boat tips back upright, Hanzo rows faster, and tries not to look too long at the gouges the claws of his mysterious assailant has left.

_They know you are not meant to be here. _

Hanzo does not want to know who _they_ are and keeps rowing as fast as he can.It is not long before his dragons have to leave to return to their vigil over Hanzo’s body and Jesse as they have promised him. That leaves Hanzo alone on the astral sea, endlessly rowing towards his goal.

There are other _things_ like the first one who try to grasp at his boat. Hanzo beats the strange skeletal hands off with the oars. It is harrowing, but he comforts himself with thoughts of Jesse. He must be worried sick for Hanzo, and the thought keeps Hanzo rowing. Time feels like it does not pass at all here, and the only way Hanzo can judge is by when his dragons return. 

They return with gifts and offerings, having figured out how Jesse may send things to help his beloved keep his spirits up. Much like how when Hanzo was younger, he would give his dragons offerings of sake and candies. Interesting to see that the objects can actually cross planes to get to their recipient.

“Give Jesse my thanks,” Hanzo says, stopping his rowing to pull a blanket around himself that Jesse has sent as an offering, “It is not necessary for him to worry so much over me.”

_He will do so either way. He cares much for you. It is also good to see that you still care so deeply for him._

That gives Hanzo pause as he takes up the oars again, and he frowns as he looks to towards his dragons. They urge him to start rowing again, and he does, though he still voices his question.

“Why would I not?”

The dragons exchange a look at Hanzo’s words, chittering amongst themselves again. They turn to look back at Hanzo, their intrigue plain on their faces.

_You have been acting strange while adrift in the astral sea. It is like you are disconnected from— well, from how a human would otherwise react. If you are feeling fear, it is not apparent. You could very well die here, and yet you treat the threats to yourself with little concern. Those among the dead here who would seek to pull you under for not belonging here, you have come to treat like mere nuisances._

“To be fair, they, whoever they may be, _are_ being rather annoying.”

Almost on cue, Hanzo lifts an oar when he feels the boat rock again. He wields it menacingly over the side that is starting to dip towards the water's surface, smacking the hands as soon as they appear. There are multiple pairs of skeletal hands now trying to drag his soul beneath the water. Content that the danger is passed again, Hanzo places the oar he brandished back into the water and begins to row again.

The dragons now wear expressions of mild concern.

_We are merely worried about you. There is no telling how this prolonged exposure to this realm will affect you. _

“Just as there is no telling how being exposed to the mortal plane will change you,” Hanzo replies, looking pointedly to his dragons, “You both are different too. I’ve never seen you have such concern for me.”

_Hm. Perhaps it is as you say. This experience will change us all._

“All we can do is hope it is for the better.”

_Indeed._

There is nothing more said after that, Hanzo rows determinedly towards his goal, and yet again his dragons’ time on this plane ends when the sun rises. It is a cycle that Hanzo grows accustomed to until it ends abruptly when his boat is surrounded by a thick mist, and shortly after runs aground. Hanzo takes it to mean he has reached the isle of mist his dragons told him to seek.

Hanzo drags the boat further ashore when he steps out of it, and with nothing to tether it to, leaves it as is. Something tells him that no one would be able to take it anyway. Hanzo does detach the lantern from the front of the craft though, hoping it will aid him in finding his way through the mist.

As soon as he turns to head farther into the island with his lantern, lights appear within the deep fog, glowing the same eerie blue hue like his own light. Hanzo moves to follow down their path since he has nowhere else to go. When he turns to look back towards the astral sea to see how far he has come, the mist has engulfed him entirely and the lights behind him are gone. He cannot even see the boat anymore.

There is nowhere to go but forward, so Hanzo goes, disappearing into the fog.


	8. Bonus: Waiting

Jesse at first can’t bring himself to understand what the spirit dragons currently residing in Hanzo’s body have told him. Slowly it sinks in, and all he knows is that his mate is in danger, having to go on a journey through the astral sea all by himself when the dragons cannot accompany him. Yes, it is so Hanzo can return to the mortal plane and regain control of his body, and something that must be done if Jesse wants to ever reunite with him and for Hanzo to continue to fight to protect his home. That doesn’t mean that it is not agony for Jesse, knowing that Hanzo is undergoing something like that without Jesse at his side. 

Jesse of course trusts in Hanzo’s capabilities, he knows Hanzo is a strong and proven warrior. It’s just that his instincts are screaming for him to protect Hanzo, _his mate,_ right now and Jesse can do nothing. Jesse tries to distract himself with other things at first. When Hanzo returns he will want to know their current situation. Hanzo will need to know if their enemies move to kill him.

Jesse tries to gather more information, but when he crests out of his lair at the mountain peak, he is nearly hit with a ballista bolt. They are watching the peak for any sign of him or Hanzo. He risks injury to land and destroys the ballista and the encampment set up around the base of the mountain, but knows they will bring more in order to shoot him down. They have also positioned themselves within the forest, knowing if Jesse uses his fire he will destroy the best hunting grounds he has. He gets his own form of petty revenge by taking their horses to dine on.

The bolt that missed him he retrieves where it has lodged itself in a tree on the other side of the mountain range in order to study it and to show Hanzo what they are working against. He also stocks up on meat, making as many hunting trips as he can to gather food before the encampment is rebuilt. Jesse can preserve the meat so it lasts in case the humans do attempt to siege his home.

The dragons meanwhile are preoccupied with keeping Hanzo’s body well cared for, which they end up needing _a lot_ of help with. Never having been_ mortal_, they need reminders to eat and drink and to wash and change Hanzo’s clothes. Jesse helps them with everything. They often tell him how Hanzo is doing as Jesse does.

They tell him of Hanzo’s progress as he moves over the astral sea, and that Hanzo misses him more and more every passing moment and that his longing is so strong they feel it even through their faint connection. It’s during recounts of the skeletal hands that try to grasp and drag his lover down that Jesse reaches the threshold of what he can take. Jesse has had enough of being unable to do anything.

“There must be _something,”_ Jesse practically begs, clutching at the spirit dragons occupying his beloved’s body, “_Anything_ I can do for him. If I must rip out my own damn soul to traverse to that plane I will do it, just ask it of me! Dammit, just _tell me how.”_

The dragons merely lift their hands to pet through Jesse’s hair to soothe him. They are silent as they do so for a time before they lift Jesse’s head from where he’s tucked it against their shoulder.

_“We cannot allow you to take such a drastic measure. Hanzo would have us banished for allowing harm to come to you. But, there might be a way for you to at least bring him some joy on such a treacherous errand,”_ they speak, their voices layered. Jesse feels he will never get used to such discordant sound leaving Hanzo’s lips, _“When Hanzo was younger, he would leave offerings to strengthen our bond. Sake, candies, other such things were sent to us and received by us even in the astral sea. Perhaps if you were to leave something for _him_, it would work. It would certainly bring him some levity to the hardship he will face.”_

“Offerings?” Jesse perks up, “Would we need an altar or something?”

_“If you have objects that belong to him, you could build a shrine of a sort to him, and leave your gifts there? When we journey to his side at night, we could try to take with us whatever you gift to him.”_

Jesse is out of their hold and moving to the library hoard to gather up what little possessions Hanzo owns before they are even done speaking. There are many things Jesse has gifted to him, but the dragon only gathers what Hanzo has taken a liking to. One of the yukatas, the bow and quiver. He works to carve a shelf in the rock of the library cavern before he can even set the objects out.

Finally, and a little guiltily, he goes and pulls from the gold hoard a length of golden silk. The dragons watch as he does this, raising an eyebrow as he retrieves Hanzo’s hair scarf. 

_“He has been looking for that, you know.”_

“I know,” Jesse can’t help but rub his face against the silk, purring softly when the scent of his mate hits his nose, “I’ll give it back, I swear.”

Jesse places the gold silk almost reverently on his impromptu shrine. He follows the dragons’ instructions on how to properly make an offering. Jesse does not have incense so he makes do with fine tobacco he has laying around for when the mood strikes. The dragons assume it will work well enough given the circumstance.

They tell him Hanzo misses Jesse’s embrace, their master’s thoughts often drift to the warmth of Jesse’s arms and wings wrapped around him tightly as the astral sea is cold. Jesse immediately rummages through the nest in the library hoard for the warmest looking blanket he can find. It is not Jesse’s wings, but he hopes it will be enough for Hanzo. He leaves it out on the shrine for the dragons to take to Hanzo when they rejoin him in the astral sea. Jesse hopes it will keep his mate warm while he cannot.

Thankfully it works. Hanzo receives his gift, and from what the dragons say, he is grateful and is as alright as he can be. Jesse vows to send his beloved more gifts. He sends some practical things, a magic decanter of endless water when the dragons tell him Hanzo cannot drink of the astral sea, as well as some of the dried meats Jesse has prepared. Jesse even sends some gold, uncertain if Hanzo will need to barter for anything on his journey, but he makes sure Hanzo has the option just in case.

The last gift he sends, Jesse carves himself. He finds one of his recently shed scales among the sea of gold and spends some time shining it so it rivals the most resplendent ruby. With his claws, he carves the shape of a dragon in his likeness on the surface. Jesse finds a leather cord and makes the scale into a pendant. 

He presses the scale over his heart, hopes that when Hanzo receives it he can feel Jesse’s affection for him even when he is not near. Jesse presses a kiss to the scale pendant for good luck before he places the gift on the shrine before the sun sets. 

On the back of the scale pendant, in draconic, Jesse has carved out one simple vow.

_You will never tread in darkness, my fire will light your path._

All Jesse can do now is wait for Hanzo to return to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This bonus chapter is dedicated to Spin who encouraged Pining Dragon Man so we got Pining Dragon Man.

**Author's Note:**

> If you wanna chat at me about McHanzo or any other of the pairings I ship, catch me on my fic tumblr [Angstgremlin](http://angstgremlin.tumblr.com) or you can now find me at my Twitter [Angstgremlin](https://twitter.com/Angstgremlin)
> 
> FANART  
[Fias_Overart](https://twitter.com/fias_overart) Drew [a scene from Chapter 1!](https://twitter.com/fias_overart/status/1167455319749988352)


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